


cocoa and cats

by werealldreaming



Series: cosmere cat café [2]
Category: Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Canon Autistic Character, Cat Cafés, Fluff, Gen, Tien (Stormlight Archive) Lives, also you don't really need to have read the other fic to read this one, this is the most self-indulgent thing i could possibly write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-28 05:51:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20059081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werealldreaming/pseuds/werealldreaming
Summary: Tien's caught in a storm, and makes a stop on the way home.





	cocoa and cats

The first time Tien goes to the Cosmere Cat Café goes like this:

It’s raining.

Tien had known this new university was set in a city known for its harsh and semi-frequent storms, but it’s still only his first week on campus, and it’s the first one he’s experienced, so he’s caught completely off-guard by it. He doesn’t have an umbrella, or even a proper jacket, and within minutes his thin hoodie and jeans are soaked. The wet clothes leech away warmth, and cling in a way that makes his skin crawl with discomfort. He can only hope the contents of his backpack are staying relatively dry.

He’s still at least fifteen minutes’ walk away from his dorm, though, so he ducks under the nearest building’s awning to contemplate the rain. He really doesn’t want to get even more wet.

Thunder cracks, and Tien flinches slightly. Thunderstorms weren’t exactly _rare _back in Hearthstone, but he’d never liked them then either. And usually he was inside during storms. Tien decides he’d rather not be outside, and glances at the building he’s taking cover under. The window reads _Cosmere Cat Café _in a gold script. It seems promising enough, and it would certainly be warmer, so he ducks inside, dripping water onto the floor.

“Hello,” someone says. He looks up. The speaker is the man standing behind the counter. He has black-and-blonde hair, and his nametag reads _Adolin._

“H-hi,” he says. Thunder cracks again, and he winces. “Sorry, I was just—the rain—“

“It’s okay,” says Adolin. It’s silent for several moments, and just as Tien is wondering if entering was a mistake, he says, “Why don’t you go into the cat room? It’s warmer in there. And there’s cats.”

Tien considers this for a moment, then nods. He makes his way into the adjoining room, which has several cats and many cat toys and mercifully, only a few people. It _is_ warmer in here, just as Adolin had said. He settles down on an armchair in the corner and peels off his wet hoodie, draping it over the chair so it can dry.

He’s only sitting there for a moment when a large grey cat approaches him, sits by his feet, and _mrow_s. Tien reaches down and gently strokes the cat on the head. It blinks slowly, considering him, and then leaps into his lap. Tien jerks back slightly in surprise, but the cat just settles down again.

He feels himself relaxing. There is something about having a cat sitting on his lap that is extremely soothing—perhaps it is the way it reminds him of his weighted blanket, or the fact that he can stroke its soft fur. Whatever the reason, he’s grateful.

Tien is just considering figuring out a way to get to his backpack and make sure his laptop isn’t dead when one of the employees approaches him. He’s got black-and-blonde hair much like Adolin’s, though his has much more black, and his nametag reads _Renarin_. He’s holding a mug with a cat printed on it, along with the words _Be Paws-itive_. Tien can’t help but smile a little at the pun.

“Would you like a hot cocoa?” Renarin’s voice is soft, as if he is afraid to disturb the quiet peace of the cat room.

“I, uh, I didn’t order one,” Tien says uncertainly.

Renarin shakes his head. “That’s okay. Adolin said he thought you could do with one, so if you want it, you can have it.”

“Oh.” Tien’s not sure what to make of that. Few people are that generous. “Okay, then. Thank you.” He accepts the mug and takes a sip, letting the sweet warmth fill him for a moment.

“No problem,” says Renarin. He stands silently for a moment, then says: “Do you want to hear about Fractal? She’s the one currently sitting on you.”

Tien shrugs. “Sure.”

“Fractal’s a Burmese cat, specifically an American Burmese cat. The breed originally came from one cat called Wang Mau that people bred with a Siamese cat in 1930. Fractal, specifically, is one of a litter of three that got dropped off at the shelter we partner with about a year ago. She’s usually very shy—it’s kind of an anomaly that she immediately came up to you.”

Tien nods. “Well, I’m honored that she likes me, though I can’t imagine why,” he says.

“Maybe it’s the solidarity.” Renarin settles down cross-legged on the ground and grabs a long feather from a nearby table.

Tien blinks. “What?”

“The autism solidarity,” he elaborates. “Because cats are autistic, and I saw your pin, so I figured—“

He glances down at his shirt. He’d forgotten he was wearing his rainbow lemniscate pin. Most people either didn’t recognize it or didn’t comment on it. “No—I mean, yes, I’m autistic, I just—cats are autistic?”

Renarin nods, eyes alight with excitement. “They like routines, they mirror people, they have socialization patterns that neurotypical people don’t recognize, and they stim. Cats are autistic.”

“…huh.” It made sense, but Tien had never considered it like that before. It made him look at Fractal with a slightly different light. They’re silent for a moment, and something occurs to Tien. “Are you autistic too?”

Renarin nods, running his fingers along the feather. “Yep. I saw your pin and went ‘same autism!’ which is why I’m the one talking to you instead of one of my coworkers.”

They lapse back into silence, which Tien doesn’t mind. It’s nice in the café, and despite the afternoon’s rough start, it had turned out much better than he’d expected. After all, it hadn’t been in any of his plans to get to pet a cat today. Plus, the café has a strange calming effect that he doesn’t think is purely because of the presence of cats. 

It doesn’t take long for the storm to die down. By the time Tien has finished his hot cocoa, the rain has slowed to a sprinkle. It’s only as he stands up to go, slinging his backpack onto his shoulder that Renarin blurts, “Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.”

“I’m Tien,” he says, and leaves. He doesn’t see Renarin’s contemplating frown.

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to [Pachimew](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/Pachimew) for the many headcanons that went into this fic
> 
> comments? questions? concerns? drop a comment i love comments


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